Mac Versus the Boxing Demon
by 6Phantom6
Summary: Every once and a while, there's a problem that rises to come and kill us. Now there is one for the men of Punch Out. Will our young hero, Little Mac rise from the tomb of Retirement and take up the gloves again? Rated T For In Case.
1. A New Challenger Appears!

Please note that I was unable to retrieve a copy of the current Punch Out game and could only recieve data from cutscenes from YouTube and data from other Punch Out authors, so please forgive me if I get the character's personality or their speech wrong. Also, I've created Rachel to be sort of a paramedic for the team, just to add in a little staff to the WVBA, so forgive me if she is a little sue-ish upon accident. Please enjoy, and send feedback for advice on the character's moods and daily behavior, as well as the usual grammar correction and story flow.

---

"I JUST KICKED YOUR DISCO ASS!!!!"

Disco Kid glared at Aran Ryan as he punched the doors to the changing room open, wincing at the swelling in his left cheek. "We all saw Ryan; no need to scream it to the sky!" He yelled out, letting a small groan out and grit his teeth in pain. Ryan just continued to punch the lockers and laugh in victory, paying no heed to his opponent's shout. Giving up, the Kid turned around and walked away, looking for the doctor.

Ryan calmed down and opened his locker, hanging his gloves up and taking out a towel. A quick strip of clothes and the Irishman rushed to the showers with towel in hand. He turned the shower on in a quick twist and hot water fell upon his body. "Another victory, another chance to screw with the showers." He muttered to himself, grinning wickedly as millions of ideas flooded in. 'Fill the shower head with soup mix…no wait, glue! No, too slow, probably honey…yeah, that will work better! Maybe switch the hot and cold knobs on the showers…'

**"SLAM!"**

The sudden slam snapped him from his thought, making him look around the shower room. "Hey Disco! Gave up on the doctor?" He asked, but received no reply. Shutting the shower off, he wrapped the towel around his waist and crept into the locker area, looking around for the source of the sudden slam. Finally, the source was found lurking around his locker, pulling out his various photographs and lucky charms. "HEY! GET YOUR HANDS OUT OF MY LOCKER!" He yelled out, stomping towards the intruder and used his free hand to unleash a ferocious right hook; or at least it would've been unleashed if the intruder didn't stop it with its right hand.

"Wha' tha?" He muttered, feeling the strength the opposite force was using to hold his fist, then turned its head and stared at the Irishman with yellow, bug-like eyes.

--

"Disco, this is amazing how your jaw nearly came unhinged after your fight." The female medic said with her blue eyes glued to an X-Ray of Disco Kid's head. "Not only that, but there are some cracks in your skull; specificly near the left cheek bone." The Kid grimaced at the news, shifting his gaze back and forth between the Brunette and his X-Rays. "Well…" he began, "He must've used horseshoes in his gloves again…"

The doctor sighed in agitation, pushing up her glasses and pushing back her long hair. "Damn Ryan." She muttered, "I don't understand why the WVBA allowed that madman in!" Disco Kid chuckled and said, "They allowed Macho Man, Hippo King and Bear Hugger into this; why not someone like him too?" The woman tapped the Kid's jaw, making him cringe in pain. "Don't talk so much; unless you want a serious aftermath when your jaw heals." She then began to walk out of her office with the Kid trailing behind her. "Stay in the office Kid." She commanded, "I want Ryan to see what happened. Time for the doctor to treat the Irishman."

The doctor rushed down the hallway, her stride quick and her movements close to that of a soldier's. The sight of the doors to the changing room made her break into a near sprint, feeling her strict, commanding mood rise in her chest. But when the doors were pushed open, her strict moods melted into fear, and surprise.

The locker room was a mess; locker doors ripped off and bent in half while the lockers themselves were toppled over and dented, personal items and boxing wear scattered around and ripped to shreds, several overhead lights ripped from their circuits and hanging by a few wires, the benches ripped from the floor and broken in half. A soft moan rose from the chaos, making her dart into the wooden and steel mess and began pulling away debris. "Hello?" She began, "Hello, are you alright?"

She threw a detached door away and saw Ryan's battered and bloody face. "Sis…is that you?" He muttered, only to have his eye pried open and have a pen light shine into it. "Ryan…Ryan, it's me; Rachel. Can you feel your limbs?" Ryan clenched his eyes and said, "Sis, keep your spotlight to yourself!" Sighing, Rachel continued to dig debris away from the Irishman, finding blood coated on some of the metal and wood. She then began to grab his arms and carefully tried to pull the hurt man from the wreckage. "Ow…ow...owww…I think something's up me arse..." He muttered, but the female dared not to look. "Lean on me, we're going straight to the hospital. Can you walk?" The Irishman looked at her and said, "You're smaller than me; how ya gonna get me there?!" But the doctor merely said, "Details, details…"

--

Later, thanks to a passerby boxer, Ryan was dragged to the medical bay and was carefully laid upon a cot, a black, thin sheet covering him as he struggled to keep consciousness. Rachel began dialing for an ambulance while Disco Kid and the assisting boxer, Don Flamenco kept watch on the injured man. "The ambulance will be here in a few minutes." She announced as she slipped the phone into its cradle. "We have to keep an eye on him in case something arises." Disco Kid just shook his head slightly and said, "I guess what goes around comes around. He looks worse than that time he tried to switch Popinski's soda with vinegar and got caught." Without moving his dark eyes, Don asked, "How did he get this way _medico_?" Without a beat, the doctor replied, "I have no idea. I found him buried under a mountain of debris made of the lockers, wooden benches, and I think part of the wall. From the look of this, he looks like he is suffering from a concussion, a broken leg or spine, internal bleeding; the list goes on and on."

"I hate to say it, but I don't think even Ryan deserved this." The Kid commented, moving away from Ryan as Rachel enclosed her hand in his. "Don, I need you to watch for the ambulance; try and look for anyone suspicious passing by while you're at it. Kid, go around and tell the other's about this; maybe they know something about this." The two obeyed and left the two alone, feeling a chill shiver down their spines.

--

"Who do you think did it?"

Don perked up at this while the two walked down the hallway, then turned his gaze to Disco Kid. "In my opinion_,_" he began, "No idea; anyone could've done it, but everyone has _una coartada. _You said you were the last man to see him before he was beaten; and as far as I'm concerned, everyone was either in the gym or the ring." The Kid tried to think, but he grimaced again, gritting his teeth and muttering, "Rachel forgot to put a support on my jaw…"

Don sighed and said, "Go back and get one; we don't need another boxer beaten to a pulp." The Kid muttered back, "I gotta tell the-" But Don grabbed his shoulders, turned him around and pushed him down where they once traveled. "Go get one!" The Spaniard demanded, "If I pass by somebody, I'll tell them to pass the word." Without another word, the dancer walked down the hallway, holding his sore jaw. "_Te lo juro, yo soy el único aquí con algo de sentido común_." He muttered in his native language, "_Voy a perder mi cabeza uno de estos días_."

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"

**SLAM!!!**

Don froze at the sudden outburst, feeling his usual suave self froze in fear. But snapped out of it and broke into a run, hoping to get to the source in time to save the victim and see the attacker.

"DAMN YOU!!!"

**WHAM!**

'That was Mr. Macho…' The Matador thought, 'That means…the attacker is in the gym!' Then pushed him to run faster, staring straight ahead of him while the sides blurred by him.

"THIS IS SO BO-**GAH!**" **"SNAP!" **"OH MY-**AGH!**"

'DAMN IT, I'M RUNNING SO SLOW!!' He screamed in his mind, pushing himself more with each echo of pain and destruction as they echoed down the hallways, sounding ten times as ominous. He could feel his adrenaline race through his veins with his blood, his heart pump harder than ever. He felt the need to scream race to his throat when he could feel his finish line grow closer to him. He finally threw his hands out in front of him and screamed a war cry as the Gym doors approached him like a wave. But the sight before him made his urgency emotions froze instantly.

Before him, punching bags were shredded to pieces on the floor, roof tiles pulled down and broken, weight sets dismantled and imbedded into the walls, and dummies torn in two. Don took cautious steps into the debris jungle, shifting his gaze for a sign of life; a moan, a shift in the rubble, a cry for help, anything to keep the Matador hopeful. A soft moan made him turn to a pile of torn bags made him dash and franticly dig through the sand until a sand-filled scream made him jump back. From the pile, Macho Man shook the sand off his head and gasped for air while Don stared on.

As he stood up, he displayed the damage done to him; the millions of sand-filled cuts on his chest, legs and arms, the blanket of bruises that covered almost every inch of his skin, and the horrible swelling on the left side of his face. He muttered darkly, "If I ever see that little bastard one more time, I will rip his arms off." Don snapped from his shock and asked, "Who did this?" The man of California snorted out sand and said, "It's some punk I never seen before! I swear, I WILL BEAT HIM TO A BLOODY PULP IF I SEE HIM AGAIN!" The Spaniard sighed and said, "Let's get you down to Rachel's office; maybe she can clean you up before the ambulance arrives."

--

"This is really serious…"

The doctor started at the newest member of the Sick Bay as she waited professional help, biting down on a tongue depressor to calm herself. Macho reached out to her, saying, "Come here; biting on something wooden won't help you or us. Let me hold you so you cam calm down." But the female turned around and pointed a scalpel at his face, saying, "Touch me and I will dissect your face. I don't need a self-indulged man hug for stress relief; I need to know who is trying to kill us!"

Macho Man smirked and said, "I can tell what the guy looks like, but only if you agree to go on a date with me!" Rachel turned around and gave him a death glare evil enough to make Death himself fall down dead. "Ok, doll face, I was just kidding." He said in defense, "I will tell what he looked like." The woman relaxed and took a pen and a pad of paper in a quick motion, then nodded for him to begin.

"Well," He began, "he was a short guy, but he had yellow eyes, and he didn't have any hair; four horns instead. He was completely grey skinned, didn't have a nose, mouth, or ears, and had these sort of…fin things on the back of his spine. Oh, and he had only four fingers and his feet look like he had any toes." The doctor held up a hand and said, "Wait, he didn't have any toes? Did this mean he was completely naked?" Macho Man shrugged and said, "I think so, he wasn't wearing a shirt, or pants; but he looked completely smooth…"

"Alright, I think that's enough Macho." The doctor said, "We're dealing with something that is either an alien or some monstrosity created by evil human hands." Silence followed, The California man looking at her while Ryan lay on the cot unconscious. Footsteps down the hallway made her dart to the doorway and sigh in relief as Don, along with the paramedics rushed towards her. Instantly, she got out of the way and spoke rapidly of the conditions of the two men. The paramedics lifted the cot containing Ryan and carried him out while Macho Man followed behind, giving Rachel a quick wink before leaving. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and watched the group depart. "Did you find out what we're dealing with?" Don asked, a hint of urgancy in his voice.

With a dark overtone, she muttered, "We're dealing with a monster."

--

To be continued.


	2. The King Falls The Hero is Needed

WARNING:

If Mr. Sandman is your favorite character, do not read. I have nothing against any of the characters, it's just how the story flows for me. My fingers have tiny brains in them that just type the first draft for the story. Alos, I do not know how to type foreign languages in english and language morph, so sorry; not much difference in the language for the characters.

Please enjoy, and send feedback for advice on the character's moods and daily behavior, as well as the usual grammar correction and story flow.

---

"EVERYONE PLEASE! MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE! THIS IS A** VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!**"

All the boxers, save two, were in the boxing arena, seated in the front seats and staring at her with a sense of respect and fear. Rachel stared into the array of eyes, feeling worry grip her heart for the first time in years. "Everyone…this is a very important announcement and everyone needs to hear this." She began, "If you have trouble understanding in English, I will repeat this message in your native language. As for the announcement, I need for all of you to know that there is a monster in the WVBA; something that no boxer can defeat." She paused as a few murmurs rose from the group of 11, a mixture of foreign and English rising. "Already," She began again, "It has taken out two boxers from our World Circuit; Aran Ryan and Super Macho Man. Both have suffered from major cuts and beatings, as well as possible concussions and a large amount of broken bones. Also, the locker rooms and the west gym has been damaged enough to be closed for months; so if you want more proof, head there."

Silence followed, leaving Rachel to take a breath and try to ease her beating heart. "This is the plan until this creature leaves or is destroyed; no one is allowed in the WVBA arena until further notice." An outcry of despair and questioning rose from the group, but the medic did not move nor open her mouth for negotiation. "I'm sorry gentlemen, but this is the only option that I can come to in order to keep casualties to two!" She shouted, "Unless you want to end up in a hospital; then stay here for all I care!"

"Miss Rachel, why can't I just find him and take him to Dreamland?"

The female turned her gaze to Mr. Sandman as he sat behind the others, looking more like a tribe leader of the group. "Come on Rachel," The champion edged on, "I bet I can beat it. What does the monster look like?" She glared and let out a small groan of annoyance, spitting back, "Sandman, I respect you, but letting an ego like that be your fuel and you will surely die." The man from Philadelphia stood up and walked towards her, his stony eyes meeting her cold ones as they grew closer and closer until he towered over her. "This isn't fueled by an ego." He stated, "This is fueled by the fact that I aim to knock out every new fighter in this building; **_especially cheaters._**"

"Look, I admire that you want to defend this place," She replied sternly, "But I would sleep better if you listen to me! I can't bear to look at myself if I know that you're in a coffin or a hospital bed after trying hard to keep you on your feet!" But the grown man placed a hand on her head, saying, "You said the exact same thing after that fight between me and that ape you _'borrowed'_ from the company's private jungle; I turned out fine, 'cept for a few bruises. This isn't that different from that fight, so why the hesitation?"

Moments passed as Rachel glared hard and long at the Champion's feet, the anger and tension racing to her limbs. She stepped away from the towering man and straightened her hair, feeling the moods boil and overflow enough to make her muscles tighten. "Well?" He edged on, "Why not now? Why can't I fight this freak?" She hissed out in agitation then raised her hands in surrender, replying, "Fine, go get yourself killed! I can care less from your stupid choices."

Just as the words flew from her lips a crash was heard from above them; the sound of crunching metal deafening. The group jerked their heads up to see bits of the metal roof and the high lighting falling down upon them, along with a new intruder. The boxers in the front row began to dash away while Mr. Sandman picked up Rachel and ran from the ring before the debris crashed down on them with the force of a waterfall. As the sound and dust subsided, one by one the fighters peered from their safe spots while the champion and medic stood up slowly from the floor.

"No…" The medic muttered, fear overtaking her usually commanding voice. "It's…it's here…" The Champion looked in her direction and saw what made her shake.

In the middle of the metal chaos, a grey-colored being stood confidently, yellow eyes gleaming in the lights while four spikes protruding from the back of its head stood proudly. The new creature turned its gaze slowly over the twelve people, carefully scanning each person with the precision of a hawk. "That's the thing?" Sandman asked her, only to receive a nod in reply. The creature turned its head directly towards the two, its golden gaze burrowing deep into their souls. Then, without taking its eyes off of them, it took a piece of the debris, wadded it like paper, and threw it at them. Mr. Sandman shoved Rachel away before the metal wad pinned him to the cold ground, its edges cutting into his skin.

The creature walked through the ropes, snapping them like rubber bands; but paid no heed to the reaction. He groaned as he tried to shove the wad off of him with small success, but it was hit off of him as the humanoid creature reached him in a manner of moments. HE stood up instantly and stood in his boxing stance, ignoring the blood slowly oozing down his body. "Ok, you're strong enough to crush a sheet of metal into a ball; I'll give you credit." He began, "But it isn't all that good." Then threw a left jab, but it was caught in the creature's hand like a baseball. But Mr. Sandman smiled as he took his left fist away and charged in with his legendary 'Dreamland Express' Punch. "Nighty-night!" he screamed out before the punch hit the creature square on the jaw.

Seconds passed, tension rose, heart beats fluttered and throbbed, all eyes of all colors staring at the champion and the newcomer; all souls were waiting for the moment of truth. The creature shifted its gaze straight into the eyes of Mr. Sandman, feeling the thick feeling of hatred crawl into his soul. It then grabbed Sandman's arm and in a quick motion, bent the arm the wrong way; the bone began to morph inside the skin as it began to shatter. The pain and the sight of his shifting skin sent him to shock with fear and agony. The group around him stared on with horrified stares and sickened stomachs. Rachel felt her heart break and felt tears reach her eyes.

The creature released the man's arm and then threw a punch to the chest, sending him flying through the stands like a meteor. It then looked around the other combatants and then jumped into the ceiling, leaving a hole and a small metal shower. The woman ran towards the resting place of Sandman, hearing his pained breathing shutter horribly. "Sandman…Mr. Sandman!" She screamed, "Damn it, don't die on me!" Other boxers rushed to her spot but she screamed at them to get back. "SOME ONE CALL A DAMN AMBULANCE; TELL THEM IT IS A NEAR-DEAD PATIENT THIS TIME!!!"

The Sandman coughed up a clot of blood, then looked at her and said, "Guess I made a dumb mistake…I should've listened to you Rachel…" The medic held his hand and said, "Save your breath; from the looks of things…" He cut in, "I know I'm bad doc; I can feel it. I won't make it this time…" She squeezed his hand and said, "Don't say that Sandman! You **WILL** live; I demand it!" The champion shook his head and gave a light chuckle. "You can't save everybody, every time; that would be…be…" Then he exhaled and closed his eyes, letting his head tip off.

**"_NOOOOOOOO!!"_**

--

The medic's door was closed with the lights off as the sounds of soft sobbing rose. The remaining boxers waited outside, either to say they were going to their homelands, or to comfort the sobbing woman. Don sighed and shook his head, muttering, "She's taking it hard." Glass Joe sighed and replied, "_Oui_, I know. Breaks my heart hearing her cry." "It breaks all our hearts comrade." Soda Popinski piped in, looking sadly at the ground. "We lost a champion, and a dear friend."

A growl and a slam made the trio look at Bald Bull as he gritted his teeth. "_Damn det hele_!" he shouted, "We did nothing but stared on! Someone could've stepped in-!" A hand on his shoulder made him stop in midsentence, making him stare into the solemn eyes of Von Kaiser. "If someone stepped in," he began, "It would not change that we would lose a valued friend and competitor." But the Turkish man growled and sat next to Popinski, staring at the opposite wall with a sense of defeat. "I guess we do have to leave this arena." The Russian man muttered out. "It feels like we're leaving our home."

"_Nein_; we won't leave." Von Kaiser stated, "This place is our territory; will we let some monster take over?!" The Spaniard sighed and said, "I know it would be cowardly to leave here like_ hunde_ with our tails between our legs. But there is no other choice; our strongest fighter is dead and two more are in the hospital out cold. There's no one left to fight that monster."

"Little Mac…."

The left over boxers shifted their gaze to Glass Joe, a sense of discovered bravery covering his face. "Little Mac!" he repeated, "We can ask him to come back to fight that demon!" Von Kaiser instantly answered, "I'm above asking a _kind _for help!" Don added on, "There is also the fact that he retired; we would never find him in the city." But the Frenchman protested, replying, "_Je m'en fous_! Even if you won't try, I will." Then Joe departed, leaving the others in a stupor. "Sometimes, I wonder if his determination is his Achilles heel." The Spaniard muttered as he stared on. "I don't know either to laugh or to applaud at this."

"The real decision lies upon our decision." Piston Hondo spoke sternly, "Do we follow or do we wait for our funerals?"

Silence fell down the fighters; all those that spoke kept still, and all those that dare not speak a word kept their mouths zipped shut. Then Don began to walk, keeping his gaze locked on the back of the red head. "What are you doing?" Bull asked, "You're not gonna try to find that little mosquito, are you?" The Spaniard froze and said, "I rather do something than die from doing nothing; if you want to follow us, then _prista._" Then continued onward as the remaining boxers looked at each other, thinking if to stay, go home, or follow them. "Someone must protect this place, and I might as well do so." Bald Bull solemnly stated, folding his arms and closing his eyes. "As do I." Hondo added in, while Great Tiger and Popinski nodded in agreement.

"I gotta get to a doctor." Disco Kid said, rubbing his sore jaw, "I think it detached…"

King Hippo growled and grumbled, then left the others to figure out what he said.

"I think I better go with him…" Bear Hugger said, "He probably went for some grub, or guard duty."

Then the Canadian left while the others turned back to each other, then shifted their gaze to the German. "What about you Von Kaiser?" Popinski asked, "What will you do?" The German kept his cold gaze, but slowly felt it melt as their gazes burrowed into them. He then gave up and began down the hallway, saying, "I better find that annoying Bronx brat."

--

To be continued.


	3. Dark Chocolate May Cause Nightmares

WARNING:

Sorry about this chapter, I had a rotten week. I also appologise for the sudden change in Joe's behavior, won't happen again.

Please enjoy, and send feedback for advice on the character's moods and daily behavior, as well as the usual grammar correction and story flow.

None of these characters are mine.

---

'In the midst of the city of Bronx, New York, three men began their journey to find their hero, not knowing if they would be successful and find their only answer, or fail and fall like their brothers in arms.'

Don put down his book and asked, "Why do authors type up such dramatic openings in their books?" Joe put down his magazine and said, "Who knows; maybe to attract readers into stay and reading the rest of the book. I think it's a _mal _choice for authors."

"Would you two clowns get away from my stand!? This isn't a library ya know!"

The two looked at the owner and put their reading material back into the kiosk, then walked away with words of apology. "Well, that was embarrassing..." The Spaniard said slyly.

They walked up to Kaiser as he leaned against a lamp post; he turned around and asked, "So, any clue where to begin this search?" Joe shrugged and said, "_Je suis desole, _but I don't know much about this city. Maybe we should start with the obvious places and ask around." The German scratched his head and said, "The last I heard about New York is that it's a mad house…; especially the Bronx."

"Well, we must start somewhere." Don edged on, "Otherwise, we would be the biggest fools in the world."

--

The hours ticked away as the trio began their search through the chaotic concrete jungle, dodging speeding taxis, angry street venders and crazed fans. After three hours, the trio had to stop on a bus bench, suffering the same amount of damage of a first time tourist. Kaiser breathed hard as he tried to calm down from his encounter with a crowd of taunting children. Don grumbled darkly as he read a book he was cornered into buying by a sly kiosk owner. Joe only trembled as a close encounter with a wave of taxis repeated in his mind.

Don put down his book and grumbled, "I can't believe I went back to that kiosk and bought this." Kaiser growled and said, "Mention that damn book again, and I'll burn you and the book." Joe only sighed silently while his eyes scanned the city surroundings. "_Livre ou non livre, _we went through nearly half the city and we have no clues to where Mac is. We don't even know if he even is alive in The Bronx."

"He could've moved, or died in the months between then and now." The Spaniard agreed, "There's no guarantee that he's still around."

The German growled in frustration and asked, "You mean, we're probably have wasted three hours searching for a brat that isn't even here?!"

The Frenchman raised his hands in defense, quickly saying, "It's a possible scenario; doesn't mean it IS the scenario!"

Don sighed and threw his book in the trash in fury, then began walking to a small corner store. "Where are you going?" Joe asked, receiving a shout of, "I NEED A CIG!" as an answer. Joe sighed and followed, mumbling to himself, "I guess I need to look for something else for a while…Kaiser, follow us _s'il vous plait_." The German huffed and did what he was told, muttering in his native language, "_Warum nicht? Wir haben drei Stunden in der Bronx verschwendet. Lassen Sie uns noch mehr Zeit in einer Ecke Supermarkt!"_

Once inside, von Kaiser spotted Don at the cigarette counter while Joe wandered to the magazine rack. Breathing out, he walked briskly to a wall of dry goods and scanned the boxes as they lined the shelves like an infinite wall of cheaply colored cardboard. "Ten dollars for a small box of dried pasta…15 for a small bundle of broken spaghetti noodles…this is robbery." He muttered silently to himself.

"Excuse me sir, I got to restock this shelf."

The German looked down at the overweight black man as he held a box in his arms. "Sorry." He muttered before side-stepping to the left while he moved in and pulled box after box of broken macaroni noodles. Kaiser stared at the man for a while, noting the flat cap on his head and the hint of age in his hair. The shelf-stocker stopped, then turned his head and stared at him asking, "Is there something wrong."

The memories flooded in as he stared at the chubby man with a mustache as he stared at him at sad brown eyes. "Sir?" he asked again, but instead of a response, Kaiser knelt down until they were eye level. "_Herr _Louis?" Kaiser asked, "Are you Doc Louis?" The man blinked, then looked around and said, "Yeah…that's what they call me."

Kaiser instantly widens his eyes and then grabbed Louis' arms tightly and said, "Perfect! You can tell us where that runt is!" Louis blinked again, taking a confused look at the German. "What runt? I don't remember a kid."

"That brat Little Mac; you were his coach, ja?" He asked, but the man shook his head and then stood up, breaking the embrace. "Sorry sir, I don't know a 'Little Mac' and there's no way I was a boxing coach." But Kaiser put a firm grip on the man's shoulder, saying, "How could you forget all of that?! I saw you train that Bronx brat all the way to the Championship! I saw you talk with him at every match; for _Gott's _sake, I WAS AN OPPONENT FOR YOUR STUDENT!"

But the retired Boxer pulled his shoulder free and staggered away, saying, "Look, I don't know who you are; do that again and I'll throw you out." Then he left, leaving the German stunned with the responses he received. 'He…he abandoned everything…just in a matter of moments!' he thought as his fists clenched, 'How could that Schweinehund forget everything!?'

With a grumble, Kaiser began to stomp towards the departing man when something caught his eye; a particular brand of chocolate bar that he saw Louis eat between fights. Grabbing it, he removed the rapper, snuck up behind Doc, and then shoved it into his mouth. Doc protested against the sudden movement, but then to chew the bar slowly and then savor it, a smile spreading on his face. He swallowed and let out a sigh of pure bliss.

"That hit the spot!" he said, the familiar enthusiasm returning to him in milliseconds. "I missed that brand so much." He then turned around and staggered back, quickly asking, "von Kaiser?! What are you doing here? And why is your hand covered in chocolate?" The German looked down at his chocolate-stained hand, but shook his head. "The hand is not important; what is important is that we need your help!"

--

Don and Joe soon met up with Kaiser and Louis at the back of the store, letting the story of the mysterious monster onto him.

"Damn…that thing took down Sandman in a matter of minutes…crazy thing right there." The boxing coach muttered softly.

"So do you see why we need to find _Monsieur_ Mac?" Joe edged on, "I figured he could defeat the abomination! So we risked _nos membres et les âmes _trying to find in The Bronx!"

"So, you think you can help us _por favor?_" Don asked with his patience on a thin wire.

The old man sighed and shook his head, saying mournfully, "Sadly, I can't leave here. I work here under force of the manager. I can't leave for a lunch break, and I return to work with five hours of sleep."

"HEY! IS THIS A SEWING CIRCLE LOUIS?!"

The four men turned around to see a scrawny black man glaring at him, wearing stained jeans and a plaid shirt, his gnarled hands clenched in fists. "Well, is it?!" he demanded, stomping up to the four with grit teeth. "It's nothing boss," Louis sighed, "Just giving these guys directions."

The manager brightened a bit and then pointed at the door. "I'm doin' it for ya; if ya not buying a t'ing, then get your asses out of mah store!" The three men looked at each other, then glared back at the manager, standing firm with Louis behind them. "Look, we need him to help us." Don began, "If you want to be an _asno _then do it to someone else!"

"Guys, don't mess with him," Louis warned, "He over prices things and can be a very mean bastard." The manager snapped back, "STAY OUT OF THIS YA FAT SACK OF CRAP! You are MAH business, not som' fruity bastards that just walk in like they own this!"

Kaiser began to lurch forward but Don and Joe held him back, having a lot of difficulty. The manager arched his eyebrow and said, "Ah, youse a fighter huh? Well, can you three fruity fecks beat me in a starin' contest?!"

"A WHAT!?"

--

The five men moved to the storage room, having a lone bulb lit over them like a luminous pendulum. In its spot light were two small crates that acted as chairs. The manager took a seat upon one of them, the wood creaking under his weight. "Simple really," he began, "You three haft ta try ta out stare me. If one on you wins, the four of you can git. IF the three of ya lose, youse gonna be my new employees!" He then let out a wild cackle as the four looked at each other.

"This is how I got sucked into this store in the first place," Louis warned, "All because I complained that he charged twenty bucks for a mini chocolate bar. Be careful guys; he's a demon to outstare." Kaiser let out a huff, then took his seat at the other crate, grinning. The crooked man ceased his cackling and said, "So big man's gunna play hero, huh? Git ready bush face, 'cause here we go!"

Silence then fell on the group, the manager and Kaiser staring straight into each other's eyes. Kaiser stared straight into the old man's eyes, while his dull grey eyes stared back at him like a pair of taunting mirrors. But then Kaiser's eye began to twitch slightly, feeling more like a flapping window shade in the breeze.

"What's ta matter bush face?" The old man taunted, "Startin' ta get dry in the eye? I wouldn't expect less with your child fear ya crybaby!" Kaiser blinked and rose up, saying, "HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT YOU FILTHY-!" But stopped short when he realized what he just did. The old man cackled again, saying, "One down; two to go!"

Kaiser looked solemnly at his friends, saying, "Forgive me…he got into my mind…I think he isn't human…"

Louis responded, "That's how he got me too; figured out all my secrets just by staring into my eyes."

Don grinned and said, "Then it shouldn't be a problem for me; everyone already knows my secrets!" Then the Spaniard sat down on the opposite crate and grinned, saying, "Take your best shot _senor, _because you're going to _brillan mis zapatos y besar mis pies_ when I win."

Silence fell on the group again, tension feeling as tight as a guitar string. The two stared at each other for a long time, Don keeping his smug smile while the manager kept his wicked grin. The other three held their breath, wondering what will pour out of the old man's mouth that would be Don's secrets.

"A Toupee!?" The manager said silently, "Pretty funny that you got a pretty bitch wit' that old rug on yer head!" But Don stared on, feeling a slight burn inside him. "But I guess it's more funny when ya haf two left feet!" he taunted again, "Dance lessons did squat wit' ya, huh?" Don felt another burn rise again, his eyes feeling close to watering from the humiliation and the surprisingly dry and dusty air.

"Guess the biggest joke of yah is ta fact that you fear COCKROACHES! Yah screamed like a girl the last time yah saw one, right?! What about when ya saw bunch of 'em blow up in tha microwave?!"

The final blow was hit as Don broke down and let out a cry of anguish, closing his eyes and he felt his tears rise. The old man cackled more wildly as he rubbed his hands with glee, chanting, "Only one left!!!" Don went to his group, head lowered with shame, saying, "I've failed…If Carmen heard of that…I can't believe he found all of that out…"

"Then…it's up to me…" Joe said; his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed hard. He walked casually to the crate and took a seat while the old man quieted his cackling and met eye to eye with the red head. "So, the last of tha bunch is tha underdog, huh? Get ready to work boys, 'cause this is gonna go down in seconds!"

The deciding contest began, both men staring as their lives depended on it. "Well…" the old man began, "Youse a loser, no surprise, and yer still a virgin! What are yah, gay?" But Joe sat there, still staring, his eyes resembling a puppy's. "Yah also lost yer parents in fancy France, and yah got stuck in a job shovelin' shit and snow! Could'ah thought that yer own country treated yah good!"

_"Ne pas vous le jour me plaindre de ma patrie." _Joe uttered in a low voice, his gaze looking ominous than sweet. "_Ne vous moquer parce que vous n'avez pas une maison? Etes-vous l'avorton de la litière? Je suppose que votre mère et votre père ne vous aime pas, alors ils vous ont jeté comme des ordures. Bonne chose aussi, sinon tu les aurais mangé dehors de la maison et de leur argent."_

"Quit talkin' in that damn fancy languae ya creep!" the old man said, feeling fear crawl slowly to his brain. But Joe stared at him with eyes that would scare a biker.

_"Vous êtes un gaspillage de la Terre." _Joe muttered darkly,_ "Je crache sur les hommes comme vous, et même cela ne suffit pas. J'ai traité avec des hommes comme vous, retour à la maison, personne ne les revit jamais. Vous ne voulez pas savoir ce qui est arrivé à ces hommes."_

"Sh-shut up!" The old man spat back, his entire body trembling, "Ya bastard! I ought'a-!" But was cut short when Joe crept up to him until they could smell each other's breath. Their eyes were locked in a death stare down, displaying the true colors of their owners.

The Frenchman then smiled a very wicked smile, then uttered in a deathly voice, "_Je suppose que j'ai à vous faire disparaître aussi." _

The old man shut his eyes and screamed, "LEAVE ME ALONE! GIT OUTTA HERE!!!!" Then ran away into the darkness, screaming for help. Joe turned around and looked at the three men with an innocent look, asking, "What happened?"

"Uh…I think you won Joe." Louis said, unsure of what just happened in that staring contest. "Good." He said, showing a sweet smile. "We can continue looking for Little Mac now!" Don and Kaiser nodded their heads, feeling their souls return to their bodies.

"You damn faggits git out of mah store!"

The four turned around to see the Manager came back with a shot gun in his hands. He aimed and fired, nearly hitting Joe in the foot. "GIT OUTTA HERE!!!" He screamed, making the four dash for the door white the crazy old coot fired random bullets. "Well, better than working here!" Louis shouted.

"Shut up and run for the door! _¡Date prisa!" _Don screamed as a bullet whizzed by his head.

--

To be continued.


	4. All because of a bicycle

Sorry about the last chapter. This one should be a tad better, if not random. Also, I don't know what the Bronx is like but I know there are no neighborhoods in New York. Just work with me.

None of these characters are mine.

---

Minutes of running, cursing, and near close encounters with cars and thugs brought the quartet to a quiet neighborhood. The four stood on the sidewalk, panting hard as their hearts hammered away painfully in their rib cages. "I thought Mac had it hard…" Louis huffed, "The street we trained on ran longer than that."

"He didn't have a maniac with a shot gun chasing him." Don panted, "Or had to run through traffic." With a cough, he stood up and analyzed the brightly colored houses, noting the empty atmosphere and lack of cars on the sides of the road. "Does anyone notice that this place is too quiet for a neighborhood in The Bronx?"

"Now that you've mentioned it…" Kaiser agreed, "It is quite odd that the owner of this house didn't come out and ask what happened." He shifted his gaze to said house and added, "I don't think anyone lives in this house…or any of these other houses."

"That could be true…this place would be packed with talking people; shot guns aren't exactly quiet." Louis agreed. "Where is everyone exactly? It's around quitting time, right? There should at least be some kids playing here…"

The four then began their awkward stumble down the still sidewalk, seeing faded remains of chalk drawings, crushed cigarette butts and broken match sticks filling the cracks. The yards of the houses were either out grown and unruly or trimmed horrendously. The still atmosphere made the group feel paranoia creep to their souls. "I think we turned straight into the Twilight Zone…" Louis muttered, but the three dared not to reply.

Out of nowhere, a woman riding a bicycle whooshed by them, catching them off guard as the bell chimed dimly. Joe shook briefly before gulping hard and released a shuttering breath while the three stared on at the departing woman. "I think she was trying to run us over…" he muttered, "Like some taunting spirit of our pasts coming behind us and telling us to give up on our future…"

"Wait a minute…that bike chime sounded familiar…" Louis muttered, "I'm gonna follow that lady."

"Why?" Kaiser asked, "It will probably lead us to a dead end, and waste more time!"

"Just a hunch Kaiser; cool your jets." The trainer said firmly, "I didn't say for you to follow me." Without another word, Louis broke into a run, with Don following close behind. "If my hunch is right…" he puffed out, "Then we'll find Mac in no time."

"You know that woman?" Don asked, "Is she close to the boy?"

"It isn't the woman Donny." The trainer replied, "It's the bike."

--

Trying to follow the mysterious woman, the four ran down the empty roads, houses zooming past them in a slow and tasteless blur. With each corner turn and down hill road brought misery to the four, nearly falling over on the sidewalk or running into inconveniently bent signs.

"Dang it, I really am faster on a bike than on my own two feet!"

_"VAMOS!!!" _

_"Mes jambes commencent à me faire mal!"_

_"Damn diese Zeichen!"_

"AIE!!!"

*THONK!*

"You ok Joe?"

"_Oui…Je suis __utilisé pour l'impression…"_

--

Thirty minutes of running brought the four men to a white, one-story house with a green bike by the front door and a driveway filled with giant chalk drawings, all faded by many months of rain. Louis panted hard, doubling over and coughing up phlegm. Don shut his eyes and swallowed down spit, feeling the burning pain in his dry throat. Kaiser was silently breathing while Joe leaned against him, shaking with pain and exhaustion.

Louis stumbled to the bike, and gave out a laugh of victory, shouting to the heavens, "I KNEW IT! THIS IS THE BIKE!!! HAHA!" Don just stumbled over, stared at the bike, and then glared back at the trainer. "What does a dingy little bike have to do with ANYTHING WE'RE TRYING TO FIND!?!" The ex-trainer explained, "Look at this bike; this is the very same bicycle that I used to train Mac. I recognize that bell ring anywhere!"

"How do you know that is the EXACT SAME BIKE you have ridden?" Kaiser asked as he raised his gaze to the two. "There are millions of bicycles out in the world!" Louis just grinned, and said, "Simple; did you see the bike in Mac's part of the Hall of Fame? Did you know it was stolen?" The boxers nodded, having the memory of the article arrive in their minds like an old friend.

"This is that bike." Louis firmly said, "Think about it; no one would steal a bike from the hall of fame unless they want to sell it, or if it was important to them." Don nodded and said, "True, true, but what if this person stole this just to use it?" The trainer shook his head, saying, "What dope would steal a bike as old as this just to use it? They would steal a new bike, or a car."

"True, you do have a point." Kaiser said, "But what if it was held just to raise the price of it for an auction?" Again, Louis said, "If it was used in an auction or some crap like that, it would already been gone! Remember when those girls broke into the hall of fame and stole everyone's first pair of gloves?"

"I remember it like a bad dream amigo," Don said, "We had to run up and down this state to look in every pawn shop and auction house for our gloves." Louis snapped his fingers and said, "Exactly kid; that means that the person that stole the bike, either is related to Mac, or it may even be Little Mac himself!"

The Spaniard widened his eyes and pushed his hair back, shaking his head in disbelief. "No…no way. It can't be THAT easy…it just can't be." He looked to Kaiser and Joe as they stared back, and then back to Louis as he knocked on the door.

**_"TWOMP!" _**

The door fell over with one knock, leaving Don and Louis in a stupor. "Either I gotten stronger…" the trainer joked, "Or this door's just that old…" The Spaniard leaned into the hallway, looking around for a sign or sound of human life. "Hello? Anyone home?" He asked cautiously, "Sorry about the door!"

"HEY! SOMEONE'S GONNA FIX THE DOOR, AND I'M NOT DOING IT!"

The sudden scream made the two back away, feeling the pieces of guilt and nervousness beginning to pile up in the pit of their stomachs. "HOLD ON! I GOTTA FIND A SCREWDRIVER!" A new voice screamed. The two looked at each other, then backed away from the front doorway as footsteps began to advance towards them. "I hope you're right about Mac living here…" Don hissed to Doc, "Or we'll be dealing with one angry boyfriend…"

"I think I might be right on this one Donny-boy." The trainer said, his eyes showing hope and life, "Look who's in the doorway."

The two shifted their gazes to the doorway as the familiar black haired boy was staring back, a screw driver in one hand and the door lifted slightly by his other. "Hey Mac…" Doc said with a smile, "Sorry about the door; didn't know it would do that."

Mac blinked, then rubbed his eyes and widened them, shocked at the sight before him. Carefully, he walked around the door and right up to them, still doubting what he sees. "D-Doc?" He stuttered, his voice sounding young yet bold, "It's really you…isn't it?" The trainer laid a hand on the boy's head and said, "Yeah, in the flesh. How are ya kiddo?"

Mac could only embrace his trainer, the emotion too much for him to resist. "Damn it Doc…where did you go?" He muttered, "All these months…I didn't know it hurt me this much…" Doc could only look down at the teenager, realizing the pain he suffered from the months of separation. "It's ok Mac…" he tried to assure, "its ok."

"It's no use…" Joe finally spoke, "No man can destroy the bond between a boxer and his trainer; _ils sont amis pour la vie. _You're like a second father to him."

"You mean the only father that ever gave a crap about him."

The five turned their gaze to a woman in the doorway, holding a camera in one hand and at the door in the other. Her normal-sized body clad in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, while her long, brown hair gathered around her shoulders. She lifted the door out of the hallway while asking, "Mac, are these your friends? They look familiar, but they don't ring my bells." Mac turned from Doc and said, "You photograph them, remember? When I was in the WVBA?" The brunette tapped her chin and said, "Oh yeah, now they're starting to ring a little. Look, go catch up in the living room; I'll deal with the door." Mac walked up to her, asking, "You sure? I can do it right now…" But all he got was a light slap on his head, along with a gesture of him to go inside.

The boy turned to his trainer and opponents and said, "Come on in."

--

To be continued...


	5. The Fear Intervention

Sorry I didn't update for so long, I've been busy. Also, don't mind Annie. She's a failed one. Much like this chapter.

I do not own anything or anyone, but Annie.

--

The five relocated to a lonely dining room, containing only a carved up dining table and six banged up chairs. Each took a seat, the stiff silence surrounding them like a thick curtain.

"Alright Mac baby, let's cut to the chase here." Louis began, "These guys are telling me about some sort of monster in the WVBA arena, and it sounds like a big deal." Joe cut in, saying, "It already took down Super Macho Man and Aran Ryan by itself, and it also killed Mr. Sandman."

"Mr. Sandman's dead?" Mac said, surprised, "Aw man…that's serious. But, why come to me?"

"Joe believes that you can take the creature down." Don replied, "For what reasons, I don't know. But we must try something."

"Wish I could help you guys…" Mac replied, "But I'm retired. I can't fight anymore; permanently banned from the WVBA. Even if I wanted to fight, I can't or I will get carted off like a bad guy."

"Bullshit Mac!" Doc yelled as he stood up from his seat, "You NEVER talk that way!" But the young man shrugged and said, "That's what the Ref told me when I took on that challenge; wish I didn't though."

"How can you say that with such a calm face?" Don asked, "Even though you never spoke around the arena, you were eager to keep climbing to the top and did it fairly. Now, here you are, denying a request to fight again; what happened to you?"

"Nothing…" he replied as he got up and picked up a tool box that rested by his feet, "I just decided to abide by the terms I've sign to, and never fight again as a professional boxer. Now…excuse me, I gotta fix the upstairs windows; they're getting stuck."

Before the men had a chance to protest, Little Mac walked out of the room and up the stairs, leaving them in silence. "Now what?" Kaiser asked, "The boy declines our request, so now where back at the beginning." No one answers, allowing a curtain of disappointment to hang heavily upon each person in the room.

"He backed out on ya, didn't he?"

The four men looked to see that same woman standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall while keeping her eyes trained on a camera as she took out the film. "Were you eavesdropping on us?" Joe asked, but the woman flatly replied, "Nah."

"Who are you?" Doc asked, "Are you Mac's sister? Mac's cousin? His girlfriend? His mom?" Again, the girl flatly replied, "I'm the idiot that takes care of him. Name's Annie by the way, I already know all of you." She then snapped the camera shut as she slipped the filled roll in a small case.

"Ah…you are into photography, non?" Joe asked, keeping his eyes on the new intruder. "Yeah." She replied, "I'm more into…sports photography. I got some pretty decent shots out of Mac's career; lots of people in The Bronx go nuts for Mac's glossies."

"Wait…you take care of Mac?" Don asked, "As in a caretaker, or a foster mother?" Annie poised her camera at Don, and then said, "Nah, I picked him off the streets. Who knew your pacifist parents can throw you out just for taking up a professional hobby? Basically, he owes me, and I owe him; he gives me decent shots and I give him a place to stay."

"Kind of an unfair deal senorita." Don replied, "Someone can't always produce good pictures while taking many punches to the head." Annie put her camera down and crossed the room until she was face to face with the Spaniard. "Not true Donny boy; sometimes you can get the best pictures outside the ring." She then knocked on the coffee table, causing a drawer to fall beneath it. She took it up and placed it on the table, saying, "These are the pictures you won't see anywhere else. These are my secret children."

Each man took up some photographs and looked at each one carefully. "Hey…" Doc said, "This is a picture of me and Mac meeting for the first time." He flipped the photo around to show everyone an image of Little Mac shaking hands with Doc while other young boxers continued to work out. "Yeah, that's an accident." She said, "I was gonna take of picture of this beautiful right hook in the ring, but my camera pointed elsewhere."

"This was when I left my first fight with Little Mac!" Joe exclaimed, showing a picture of him in his casual attire, smiling and sporting a swollen cheek and a black eye. "Yeah…that's an accident too." She explained, "My finger slipped while I was waiting for Mac to get done."

"Alright, so we know who you are." Kaiser stated, "But the question is still the same; what are we going to do about that monster? Mac will not do it, so what do we do now?" Annie sighed and said, "You have to use Mac for this. The only way to get him back to boxing is with an intervention."

"Wait…an intervention?" Don asked, "Is Mac on drugs?"

"Nah...He's just scared to pieces…you'll have to figure out the story for yourself. Good luck."

Annie left the four with the photographs, letting the option of an intervention hang in the air like an ugly ornament. "An intervention…with Mac?" The Frenchman questioned, "I don't know if it's necessary." Doc agreed, "Yeah…I mean, can't we just talk about it?" But the German stated, "We tried that just a few minutes ago, and it didn't work. So, we have to figure this out with force, or find a different solution."

The silence hung briefly before the Spaniard stood up and walked out, saying, "I'll have to do it. I just need a chair."

--

Later, Don opened the door to a room where Mac was lubricating a window and trying to get it open. He crept in and slammed the door, making the boy jump and turn. "Don? Why are you here?" He asked, but the Spaniard planted a chair in front of him and pointed at it, saying, "Sit down; we need to talk."

"But…I need to-"

"PRIESTA!"

The boy rushed and sat in the chair, feeling uncomfortable as Don pulled the blinds down and switched on a dingy lamp. Don leveled himself down until the two were staring eye to eye, the tension growing with each passing second.

"Little Mac," he started, "Why are you acting like this? You're acting like a coward. Where is that fighting spirit I saw in your eyes?" The teen sighed, then muttered out, "I guess I'm tired…I think that I am done with boxing."

A swift slap sent the teen rocking in his chair, sending droplets of spittle fly into the darkness. "_Eres un mentiroso!" _The Spaniard screamed, "I know you want to fight again!" Mac regained composure, rubbing his red cheek. "Was that necessary Don?" He asked, "I don't think it was necessary. It's just annoying, and painful." But the teenager was slapped again, the stinging sensation sent through his face again.

"Do not question my methods." The Spaniard gravely stated, "I would not use this on my own children, but I will use it on people like you. Now, why don't you want to fight?" Mac breathed out, "I'm retired." Another slap made Mac yell out in pain, while Don stated, "That is not an excuse! I want real answers _por favor_!_" _

"I…I gotta help Annie with the house…" the teen began, but he received another slap, followed by Don yelling out, "That's not an excuse! She wants you back in the ring! Now, tell me the real answer!"

"ALRIGHT! I'M SCARED! OK?! I'M SCARED TO GO INTO THE RING AGAIN!" He screamed, his emotions going haywire, "I…I don't want to get in the ring ever again…"

Don began to relax, and asked in a calm tone, "What makes you afraid? The flashing lights? The fear of dying in the ring? The opponents?"

"It…it was Sandman…" Mac began, "Mr. Sandman knocked the fight out of me…I…I…I've let down everybody in that one fight."

"You're afraid of disappointing your friends?" Don asked, and Mac nodded, then continued, "I let Doc down, I let Annie down, my parents won't take me back…I'm not strong enough…I...I can't. Never again."

"Damn it Mac." Don said, "It should be your trainer to hear this, not me. But, since I'm here, I might as well share a piece of my history to you. When I was your age, I began my matador career; it wasn't a good day for me. On the first day as a matador, I fought a bull named, _el malo; _infamous for sending many bull fighters up the flag pole with visions of horn-filled walls. I wasn't any different; I was knocked out cold for three days straight and I couldn't speak for four days after that. I felt scared after that fight, and I never wanted to even see another bull again. But…one thing brought me back into the world of bull fighting."

"Well…" Mac asked, "What is it?"

Don looked at him and gave a smirk, stating, "Simple; it was this old man we usually call '_el hombre de maíz de edad'_. You see, this old man would usually stand in front of the arena, selling dried corn husks and sometimes tamales. He saw me sulking, so he pulled me aside and made me peel the corn and lay them to dry for several days. He kept saying, "This may be annoying to you, but it is fun to me. I think bull fighting is annoying, but you think its fun. So, do you want my job, or do you want yours?"

"So…you got into bull fighting because you didn't want a job selling corn husks?" Mac asked, and the Spaniard shook his head, saying, "No, it's because he wanted me to be successful. You see, he explained that he wanted to be a matador as well, but he abandoned that dream because of one accident that knocked the fight out of him. He took up selling tamales and corn husks so he would not give himself the chance to fight another bull."

"Pretty much what I'm doing now…" The Teen quietly said, and the Spaniard nodded, saying, "Now you're getting it. I didn't quit after that one accident, not after being forced to peel and dry corn husks. So, do you really want to quit, after one fight, and take up carpentry?"

Little Mac thought for a minute, then shook his head, saying, "I would rather kick that monster's ass than hammer in another nail."

--

to be continued...


	6. Mac's Back

Geez, why won't I stop failing!?

Oh, I named the Ref of the game Richard. Don't know why; I forgot the reason.

I do not own anything or anyone, but RAchel and Annie.

--

Meanwhile, Rachel sat in her office, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders, and the lead weight of guilt weigh down her stomach. "I lost two boxers to the hospital…" she muttered, "And one to the grave. It's my fault…If only I held him back…"

She sighed as she stood up, the chair nearly tipping over. She walked to the phone hanging on the wall, placed the receiver to her ear and began to push the numerical buttons. "I need to call Anderson." She choked out, "He knows what to do. He can take it all off of my hands…"

"RACHEL! OPEN UP!"

She froze in mid-press, the sound of Piston's voice shaking her out of her guilt-ridden trance. Turning her eyes to the door, the physician hung the phone up and walked to the door, unlocking the door and swung it open. "What is it Hondo?" Rachel asked, "I have a lot to think about now." But instead of answering, Hondo grabbed her hand and dragged her through the hallways, a happy chuckle escaping between gasps. "Hondo! What is it?!" she demanded, "Did another boxer die? What?"

The two ran to the back area, showing Great Tiger holding a receiver while motioning the two to hurry up. Rachel grabbed the phone and put to her ear automatically, answering immediately, "You're reached the WVBA arena. We are currently unavailable to tell you times on the action that a major accident has occurred here."

"That's too bad Rachel; I wanted to come and fight that monster."

Rachel's eyes brighten; her grip on the receiver nearly crushed the plastic. "MAC?!" she screamed, "Little Mac, is that you!? Hello!?"

A chuckle escaped from the other side, replying, "Yeah, it's me; I wanna come back to the ring." Rachel swallowed, feeling her heart pound like a drum machine. "The five of us will be there in a few minutes." He continued, "I'll see you soon." But Rachel snapped out of her moment before yelling out, "Wait a minute! What do you mean five!? Who's there with you?!" But the only reply was, "Tell every boxer that's still here that I'm coming back."

The click signified that the call was over, leaving Rachel to hold the receiver while Tiger and Hondo stared on. She placed it on the cradle, and then muttered, "Did you two know what was happening the entire time?"

The two looked at each other, and grinned.

--

Bear Hugger was outside the arena, sitting on the bench by the door. "Knew I should'a switched placed with Hippo." He muttered, "It's too hot out here! I'm starting to sweat buckets." He looked up when he heard the familiar sound of a bus stopping in front of the arena. "Great…Now I'm startin' to see things." He muttered as five men stepped off the communal bus, all look horribly familiar. "I'm starting to see Little Mac and his trainer come here while Joe, Don, and Kaiser are trailin' behind."

As the illusions came closer to the entrance, Bear just kept sitting on the bench, thinking it was still a mirage. "Hey Bear Hugger," The Mac mirage greeted, reaching out for a hand shake, "Glad to see you're still as merry as ever." The Canadian shrugged and reached out for a hand shake, feeling surprised that his hand didn't go through. "Glad to see you too…Mac…" The boy chuckled and replied, "See you inside, ya crazy Canadian."

As the five went inside, Bear Hugger pondered about what just happened, before he finally put two and two together.

"THAT LITTLE HOSER MAC IS BACK!!!"

He then ran inside, and began to run through the building, screaming that the little boxer has returned.

--

Later, all the boxers in the building were gathered in the cafeteria, surprised that the trio came back successful in their search mission. But instead of a joyous reception, the three boxers received a terrible tongue lashing.

"You're telling me that you ran through The Bronx to find Mac and Louis without telling me!?" Rachel screamed as the three recoiled from her shriek. "I cannot believe it! You could've been killed, and I would have even more guilt to deal with! On top of that, I would get fired! What were you three thinking!?"

"I was doing something." Joe answered, "Sitting around or doing nothing is the worst thing for a man of honor to do!"

"Si, it's true." Don added, "We had to defend our livelihood, so we went out and searched for Little Mac."

"Besides," Kaiser continued, "We have learned a little about the Bronx; not really the best place to go. But it is a great substitute for a war zone."

Rachel groaned and replied, "That's just a bunch of bull-!" But stopped when a hand fell on her shoulder. She looked to see Mac standing behind her, letting off a gentle smile, and a determined glint in his eyes. "Rachel, calm down." He said, "They're just trying to help."

"Mac, you shouldn't be here." She replied, "You need to get out of here; it's too dangerous for you to be here. Besides, you're retired; you cannot enter here as a professional boxer ever again."

But the boy stepped away, and said, "That's not an excuse. I'm not gonna stop; no matter what people say or do. The WVBA is my home too, even though I'm not allowed to box professionally again."

"What the hell is going on here?"

The group turned to see the referee standing in the doorway, a cross look on his face. "Richard!" Rachel exclaimed, "I thought you went home!"

"I had to pick up my cell phone." He replied, "Now, what is going on? Why is everyone here Rachel? They should be going home until this problem is resolved! And why are Doc and Mac here again!? I thought I specifically stated that once Mac lost three times in his championship status, he's officially retired!"

Rachel began to explain, but Mac replied, "I was asked to come back by everyone here. I'm gonna fight that beast!"

"That's impossible!" The ref replied, "Just because you were able to beat opponents almost twice your size, doesn't mean you can take this thing on! You're going to get killed!"

"Does it look like I care?" Mac replied, "Boxing isn't exactly a safe sport, but I fought anyway.

"Mac, listen to me! This thing killed Mr. Sandman! It crushed his hand like it was glass!"

"I don't care. I'm going to fight it."

"It's illegal to allow you to do so!"

"So? You allowed Hippo to use a manhole cover, Aran to use a boxing glove on a rope, and Bear Hugger to have a little buddy underneath his hat. So why not let a retired fighter enter the ring again?"

"Because Mr. Anderson strictly state that-"

"ENOUGH OF THIS!!!" Rachel screamed.

The two stared at her as she stared at the two, feeling embarrassed at her outburst. She cleared her throat and stated, "Richard, this is the only option the boxers had come up with; the second oldest no less. I don't like this plan as much as you, but it might only be the only plan we got besides running away."

"Rachel!" he exclaimed, "You can't be serious!"

"We have to try Richard; anything is better than nothing."

A stiff silence fell on the room, each fighter holding their breath at the Referee's decision. HE sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, stating, "Alright…Mac can fight this thing. But it has to be held one week from today. Can you train in one week Mac?"

"Sure; I can do it." Mac stated, "Just tell that thing to bring it."

--

to be continued...


	7. Is This the Right Game?

I just wrote majority of this to the 'Plastic Beach' album. Hope you enjoy.

///

A week passed, and the WVBA arena had a full house of cheering fans. All were screaming for a fight expected to be one of the most legendary fights of all time. Every man and woman in the stands were screaming for the return of Little Mac.

///

"I don't know if I could do it Doc…"

Speaking of Little Mac, he was sitting in a small, dingy locker room, staring down at the concrete floor while clenching and relaxing his fists. "Mac, we've been training for a week." Doc replied, "We've trained in times shorter than this. You can do it Mac; I know you can."

"I know I can't…but I don't feel it…I don't feel the energy for a star punch."

"You'll get it Mac; the energy always builds during the fight until you feel the star punch in you!" Doc reassured, "Now listen, you know and I know that this fight has a lot of lives riding on it, but it's just another fight. It's not any different than the fight with any other opponent; you're just eye level with him."

"Yeah…it will be like fighting…another me." Mac inquired, "It will be like fighting a mutating mirror image. This…will be easy."

"That's the spirit kid!" Doc cheered, "There's the Little Mac I worked with all this time!"

"Excuse me, Mac, Doc?"

The two looked to see Rachel approach them, holding a cylinder in her hand. "Hey Rachel." Mac greeted, "Came to wish me a good match?"

Rachel looked down and said, "Not exactly…I'm offering you and opportunity." She then held up the cylinder for both men to see. "This is a formula I've been perfecting since my days of medical school; it still has a few kinks, but it works quite well." She explained, "This is a muscle-stimulating formula; it's like a steroid, but without the serious side effects. The only dangerous side effect of this is the potential mindless anger."

"Rachel, I'm not taking that." The boxer firmly stated, "I really don't want to take a steroid."

"Why are you offering something like that?" Doc questioned, "Why did you EVEN create something like this in the first place?!"

"I wanted to help you." She stated quietly, "I'm very afraid for you…that thing killed Mr. Sandman just with a punch to the heart. I just don't want another person to die."

"I'm not gonna die." Mac affirmed, "I can take this thing! I fought people like King Hippo, Bald Bull, Piston Hondo, and Mr. Sandman; I don't think this will be any different than any other fight I've been through. Well, aside from the fact that I can see my opponent eye to eye."

Rachel stared, then grabbed his shoulders and look straight into his eyes, saying, "Just be careful Mac; a lot of people are actually worried about you."

Mac grinned and promised, "I'll kick that thing to Pluto."

///

Mac walked into an arena of screaming fans, several waving banners that read, 'Welcome Back Little Mac!', as well as 'Kick Some Monster Ass!' Little Mac was looking around, amazed at the millions of people that packed the, all cheering for him. "Don't let your head get big kid!" Doc warned, "That's the most lethal mistake anyone can make!"

"I'm completely focused Doc." He stated, "I'm just amazed that people actually missed me."

As Mac reached the ring, something white flew from the ceiling, landing on the mat and glared at its opponent. 'The monster.' Mac thought, 'So that's the guy that killed Sandman…this will be exciting.'

"Alright fighters." The ref stated, "I want a good clean fight; no weapons, no hitting below the belt, no fighting bare fisted. When the bell rings, come out fighting."

The two walked to their corners, both staring at each other with the thrill of the fight. A stiff silence filled the crowd, waiting for that familiar ding to ring.

_'When the bell rings…' _Mac thought, keeping his gaze on the creature on the opposite side.

**_DING!_**

Instantly, Mac stood up and ran towards the beast as it charged in return. The first punch was thrown and connected with the monster's jaw. The creature threw a hard left hook in return, but Mac ducked, returning with an uppercut, hitting the monster square on the chin. It staggered a few steps backward, then charged forward and hit Mac with a hard punch to the chest, knocking the wind out of him. Mac had to bob and weave as the monster threw hooks and jabs at his head, all the while trying to regain his rhythm and wind again.

_'It's the Sandman fight again…' _he thought, _'and it's only the first round…but I won't let time repeat!'_

Mac threw a hard hook at the monster's face, disrupting its rapid punching. He used the time to throw a left-right hook combination and then a few rapid jabs to its chest, finishing it with a hard upper cut. The monster staggered back again, but Mac closed the space between them, throwing more punches towards its chest and head until the sound of the bell rang, bringing him out of his trance.

As Mac staggered back to his corner, he heard the crowd cheer around him, screaming his name and waving anything from jackets and hats, to their own shirts. "Mac, you're really cooking with fire now!" Doc commented as he clapped his hands on his shoulders, "You really let that thing have it! But I wouldn't get too close to him again; that'll give him a chance to punch your lights out."

"Sorry I…I had a rush." Mac apologized, "It's like I'm not me anymore."

The bell rang again, making Mack spring to his feet and charge towards the creature, only to be greeted with a hard hook to his face, making him fall to the mat. HE picked himself up just before the ref began to count, then threw more hard punches to the monster's stomach, gritting his teeth as he felt his fighting passion return to him grain by grain.

With a hard blow to the head, the monster crumbled to the ground, letting Mac step back and breathe while the ref began to count. _'Get up you piece of slime…'_ he mentally begged, _'Nobody stays down after their first knock out. Nobody!' _

As Richard reached six, the beast sprang up and charged towards Mac, anger burning in its eyes. He ducked, and then came back with another upper cut, then a left right combo on its chest, screaming out, "STAY DOWN!"

He threw another left hook at its head, making it stagger away to the ropes and grip them tightly. It glared at him with wide, yellow eyes; an expression of hurt and anger on its usually monotone face. Mac just glared back, waiting for it to charge back into the fight.

"What are you waiting for?" he called to it, "Are you gonna quit?!"

The creature glared at him, then crumbled to the ground, digging its hands and feet into the mat itself. People around them were screaming for the fight to continue, throwing debris at the monster while jeering for the creature to continue or quit.

Suddenly, the creature sprang up again and let out a bone chilling screech, sending the arena into silence. The monster's body began to shift and morph, the muscles squirming and expanding underneath the silver skin. Every eye in the arena watched as the monster grew larger, fascinated at the transformation. Mac watched as its face stretched and morphed, revealing the sharp teeth while muscles began to poke out of the skin.

"Sweet Mother of mercy…" Mac muttered as he stared at the seven foot creature standing before him, looking at every muscle as it bulged with power. It unleashed a maddening roar that echoed through the stadium, and possibly the entire city. Mac gritted his teeth as he positioned himself into a fighting stance again, shouting, "ALRIGHT BIG GUY! LET'S GO!"

But the creature smacked Mac away, sending him crashing through a crowd of people. Screams began to fill the air as the towering behemoth stomped towards them; its yellow eyes pinned right on Little Mac as he laid upon the metal benches in a tangled mess.

"_Escoja a alguien de su propio nivel!" _

A black rose embedded itself into the monster's eye, making it scream and stagger backwards, making it fall onto the ring. Mac looked around until he felt himself being lifted from his position, feeling his body's aches and pains as he was made to stand. "Little Mac, are you alright?" he heard a voice ask, but couldn't answer as he felt everything fall to darkness.

///

Rachel ran over to Glass Joe and Von Kaiser as they picked up Mac, feeling her heart race with fear. "How is he? Is he breathing?" she asked. "He looks like he's breathing." Kaiser stated, "But I think he fainted…must've been a hard blow to his head."

"Great, a concussion, on top of all of that; and all from one swipe!" she yelled as she took the boy out of their arms, "Start evacuating the arena! This is getting out of hand!"

"_Non, __Nous devons vaincre cette créature!" _Joe stated, "This is beyond disgraceful! This monster fights only for blood; I saw it in its eyes." He then breathed and stated, "I'm going to fight this beast."

"Please Joe…don't…I don't…I"

"_Wir müssen tun, was können wir tun, mein Freund." _Kaiser intervened, "We'll stall the creature while you rush the child to the hospital."

"What will rushing Little Mac do?" Rachel asked, "It won't solve anything!"

"We need a new seed to begin the new WVBA, incase all of us are lost."

A deadly silence hung between them, despite the monster's ruckus around them. "Wh-what"?" the medic stuttered, "What do you mean? No…you really think…?"

"We will die defending this place, because it is our house." Kaiser stated, "Everyone here; Bear, Tiger, Hondo, even the likes of Ryan. We all shall defend this place, even if it means death."

"Now hurry! Take Mac and run to the hospital!" Joe yelled, "We'll deal with this monstrosity!"

With a teary gaze, Rachel turned and ran to an exit, carrying the teenager in her arms.

///

Rachel reached the parking lot, unlocking her van and laying the unconscious teen on the back seat. "Oh why did this happen?" she asked herself, "Why? This was supposed to be an easy job!"

"Don't you know that boxing is never easy?"

Rachel turned around to see Doc walking towards her, with Annie following close behind. "Doc, you should've gone home! And you! Why are you here!?"

"One, this is Annie; Mac's roommate and caretaker." Doc stated, "And two, I don't leave Mac alone. We're coming with you!"

"I can't take you two!" Rachel pleaded, "I just can't!"

"Wouldn't it help to have some moral support?" Annie asked, "You look like death rolled over your grave! And the two of us want to know if Mac's gonna be ok! We're coming with you; no excuses!"

Rachel glared at the two, yelling back, "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND A THING!"

"NO, YOU DON'T!" Annie screamed back, "Little Mac is part of both our lives! We want to be there in case he either wakes up or dies! Didn't you want to do the same if someone you love died in a place a million miles away!?"

With a pause, Rachel sighed and said, "Get in the van."

///

To be continued...


	8. Decisions, Decisions

I just wrote this chapter. Sorry it's cheap.

I don't own anything.

///

_'Why did this happen? Why? Why?'_

Rachel repeated this mental mantra in her head as she stole glances every now again to the back seat. Behind her, Annie sat with Little Mac's head propped up on her legs, continuously stroking his hair and brushing off dried flakes of blood. A touch on her shoulder made her turn her attention back to the road, waiting for the hospital to come into view.

"This is really bad, isn't it?" Doc asked, "I mean…geez. This is a disaster."

"It will _always _be one of the WVBA's biggest disasters." She replied grimly, "This is a major toll on me; everyone's probably dead…" She sniffled as she tried to hold her tears back. "I'll never live after this…Just a quick sip…"

"Hey, don't go that route!" Doc snapped back, "No one would've guessed that a monster would show up in the first place. This isn't exactly an everyday thing."

"Neither is the theory that people can recover memories just by eating certain foods!" she argued, "Mr. Anderson will not believe this; not even if every spectator tells him, sends him pictures, and write a witness statement!"

"He might understand; I think more than the arena spectators seen this." The Trainer urged on, "I think a few television camera men were taping the fight."

"Still…" she said, "It's always that small ounce of stubbornness…."

"Then how about I tell him…in person." Mac groaned, "Surely he'll take that as my testimony."

"MAC!" All three exclaimed, only to have him let out a pained moan. "Don't yell please…" he whispered, "My head hurts too much…by the way, where are we going?"

"The hospital Mac." Rachel explained, "I was forced to take you…by the others…"

"You mean…you left them there?" He asked, "You left Joe, Kaiser, Don and everyone else there?"

"I was forced to Mac…please understand…they only want to defend the very place that is the closest to their home…" she continued, "I tried to drag them to safety…I really did…but they only wanted you to survive…in case they…they…oh no…" a sob escaped her lips; her words shattered by emotions.

Silence filled the van, the fear and realization in their souls. Mac closed his eyes and sighed, whispering, "They better be alive…they just have to be…If they weren't around…I…"

"I feel the same Little Mac…" Rachel comforted, "I feel the same way…"

///

The four reached the hospital, leaving Rachel, Doc, and Annie in a waiting room while Mac went under surgery. "This sucks on ice…" Annie commented, "Mac's probably going through hell, and I'm sitting on my ass, watching the news and reading a crappy gossip mag."

"It's all we can do Annie." Rachel retorted, "In case you forgot, none of us exactly have a license to operate on a person; so shut up!"

"Hey, tell me to shut up again, and I'm gonna shove my seven size high top into your tight ass!"

"Calm down ladies…"Doc intervened, "I know both of you are stressed, and high strung, but arguing isn't going to solve one problem."

"It still boils my blood that I sat and watched while that monster is hurting all those innocent people…" the photographer commented, "This shouldn't even be possible…"

"Well, it is; that's life Annie." Rachel replied, "We can bitch, and whine all we want; nothing will change."

_"We interrupt this program to bring you this important coverage!" _

The three automatically looked up to see the television change to that of a reporter in front of a partially destroyed building. "That's the WVBA Arena!" Rachel exclaimed. "Oh no…"

_"Thomas Matters reporting on the scene," _the reporter announced, _"I'm here in front of the WVBA arena where a disastrous event took place. As spectators describe, a fight between a monster and retired boxer 'Little Mac' has gone out of control as the monster changed into a larger being, and started to tear up the area. Several witnesses saw that Little Mac was taken away in a van by the arena's medic, Rachel Greene, as well as Mac's trainer, Jerome 'Doc' Louis, and a possible relative of Little Mac. As we speak, spectators and boxers are being pulled out and rushed to the emergency room; injuries range from scratches and burns, to deep stab wounds and concussions. So far, the body count remains at twenty; but it continues to rise as more people and bodies are pulled out." _

"Oh no…" Rachel wept, "It's all my fault…innocent people are losing their lives because of this!"

"You moron." Annie replied, "You didn't create that thing, so stop saying it's your fault!"

_"Further reports from 'eye in the sky' law enforcement are now saying that the creature is heading towards the St. Granger Hospital as we speak." _

The three froze at the statement, fear seizing their blood and bones like an icy cold grip from Death itself. "That thing…" Doc muttered, "its coming here…It wants Mac…What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know about you," Annie answered, "But I'm gonna beat that thing senseless." She then stood up and walked away. But Rachel stood up and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"You're not thinking of fighting that thing alone, are you?" the medic asked, "You possibly cannot think that you can take that thing on!"

"I'm not gonna stop it…" she said as she yanked her arm away, "I'm gonna give it a piece of my mind!" She continued walking away, saying over her shoulder, "Take care of Mac for me when I'm gone, Ok?"

"That idiot…" she muttered, "She honestly thinks that she can bash that think like that? She's insane…"

"It's called compassion, Rachel." Doc commented, "From what I've seen, she cares about Mac like he was part of her family. Even though I wish she could've thought things through before deciding to do this…"

///

Later, Mac was in a room, lying in a bed with his body wrapped head to toe with bandages while an IV was hooked to his arm. "Mac…how are you?" Rachel asked, "Are you that sore?"

"I feel like a human punching bag…" he commented, "And a drugged up punching bag at that…what happened while I was out?"

"Well, we learned that the news is watching the monster rampage." Doc answered, "And that monster is coming to the hospital."

"Crud…" Mac muttered, "Just what I need; an unwanted visitor."

"Worst part of it is…Annie's gone out to try and stall it." Doc solemnly said, "We tried to stop her…but she's too stubborn…"

"Annie went out to fight that thing!" Mac yelled out, trying to sit up, "Is she that crazy! I gotta get out there!"

"Stay down Mac, you're still recovering!" Doc pleaded, "You don't want to make your condition worse!"

"Forget that!" The young boxer yelled out, "Annie's gonna get killed! I can't stay just lie here while she get ripped to bits!"

"Well, maybe you can help by taking the formula I prepared…"

The two looked at Rachel as she took out the cylinder again, "Maybe this can give you the advantage…" she continued, "But…it's just a suggestion…"

"Give it to me." Mac stated, "I can't sit by while other people are being slaughtered…if that thing wants me, then it can have me; bigger and badder."

"Are you sure Mac?" Rachel questioned, "I don't know how it will affect you; especially in your current state."

"It's a risk I have to take." Mac answered, "No matter what."

"Alright..." she said as she uncorked it, "I'm going to administer this through the IV. After that…we'll leave you be."

///

To be continued...


	9. Giga Mac is here

Sorry about this...I am currently in the process of packing up my house, and I've been wondering to other fandoms. Hope you like this.

I only own Annie and Rachel. The rest to Nintendo

/

Outside the hospital, Annie waits for the creature, holding a frying pan in one hand, and her camera in the other. The wind began to pick up, and the distant roll of thunder began to make itself present, making her chuckle. "This would'a been the perfect disaster photo…" she muttered, "If I wasn't part of it."

The screech of the creature made her tense up, putting the camera around her neck while strengthening her grip on the frying pan handle. She glared into the dark night, lit dimly with only a few streetlamps; each one falling down to the street as the monster stomped closer and closer to its destination. "Alright baby…come to mama…" she silently taunted, "Come to mama so I can smack the crap outta ya."

Over the horizon of the street, the beast began to show itself in the dim lighting as it stomped closer and closer, causing the pavement to quake. But the amateur photographer only stood there, holding a frying pan while waiting for her inevitable result. "COME ON!" She screamed, "I AINT AFRAID, YA BIG FREAK!"

The creature swiped a fist, but she jumped away, and threw the pan at its head, only to have it clatter on the ground. "Great, we got a hard-head." She muttered as she took out her camera, switching on the flash and grinning. "Well, say cheese freak!"

A bright flash from the camera sent the creature staggering back a few inches, but it quickly regained composure and charged again, only to be greeted with another blinding flash. "Just bring buddy!" she taunted, "I got all night to screw with you!"

She hit the flash button again, but the results were different; the flash did not work. The creature roared in her face, leaving her to quiver with a camera in her hands. It lifted an oversize fist to crush her, but was pulled away just as the hand connected with her head.

It looked up to see Macho Man cracking his knuckles as it stared straight into his eyes, then threw a hard punch and hit it straight in the eyes, making it stagger back a few inches. He turned his head, and asked, "Is that girl alright Aran?"

Aran looked at Annie as she trembled in his arms, still holding her camera. "Eh…she looks fine to me." He muttered, "A bit dumb though."

"Well, get her inside!" he commanded as he got into position, "I don't know how long I can hold it off by myself!"

The Irishman did what he was told, and threw her at the front desk, making the nurse give out a yelp. "Sorry 'bout that." He joked, "She's a bit drunk; thinks she's a hero."

/

Meanwhile, Doc and Rachel were running to the front entrance when they saw Annie climbing off the front desk while papers fluttered to the ground. "What happened?" Doc asked, "Are you hurt?"

"My God! They're not..!"

Doc rushed to the window as they saw Macho and Aran fight the beast. Rachel stood there in shock and awe, her eyes wide and her mouth open wide. "Jeez! Those two are nuts!" Doc shouted, "They can't be serious!"

"They are…" Rachel gasped, "I can't believe it, but they are! They shouldn't do this! They shouldn't!" She grabbed Annie and shook her back and forth, screaming, "WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP THEM! YOU WERE THERE, SO WHY?"

"It's not my fault they wanna do stupid stuff." She answered stiffly, "One of them owes me a freaking new camera."

"FORGET YOUR CAMERA!" Rachel yelled as she slapped Annie, "Lives are more important than a stupid camera! You should've stopped them, pull them back, convince them; anything!"

"They're just doing my job, jerk." The photographer replied, "I did jack to stall him; they gladly volunteered."

Then the entire lobby fell silent as a crash erupted above their heads. Annie looked at Rachel, who only replied back with a grin, "Well, they don't have to do your job anymore."

/

Back at the fight, the two boxers were stupefied as glass and rubble rained down on the monster, creating new wounds. A large figure landed on the monster's back, slamming it into the ground while the concrete cracked underneath their bodies. The broken lights barely made out the details of the new comer; long, black hair, bulging muscles, caveman-like facial features, and piercing, black eyes.

"I…I think the hospital has finally gone crazy…" Aran muttered, "They're making monsters fresh from the OR."

"Get inside Ryan." Macho Man ordered, "This is going to be really messy…"

The newcomer let out a roar strong enough to stake the glass panes of the hospital, then brought his arms down on the monster's back, driving the creature deeper and deeper into the Earth. But the monster reached back and grabbed the new fighter, then slowly stood up as it brought its prey around and glared at it. The new comer pulled one of his arms out, and delivered a hard blow to the monster's eye, causing it to rupture and split open, allowing various fluids to drip to the ground below.

The beast threw the offender away, and staggered away from the entrance, squealing in pain as it tried to guard its ruptured eye. But the new fighter sprang onto its back and slammed both his fists onto the monster's head, and kept hammering it until blood started to drip from its eyes and mouth.

/

"Rachel, what the hell is that thing?"

The five spectators watched from the front window as the fighter mercilessly beat upon the monster's head. "Rachel, did you make Frankenstein while we were at the hospital?" Macho man asked, "Or did you teach a gorilla to beat the crap out of anyone?"

"Well, actually…that's Little Mac." She replied.

Silence fell on the four, eight pairs of eyes staring at the paramedic.

"WHAT!"

"THAT'S LITTLE MAC?"

"WHAT'CHA DO TO HIM?"

"THAT'S THE PIPSQUEAK THAT BEAT THE CRUD OUT OF ME A LONG TIME AGO!"

Annie grabbed Rachel and rammed her against the wall, screaming, "WHY DID YOU TURN MAC INTO A MONSTER?"

"HE ASKED FOR IT!" she replied, "HE DID IT FOR YOU, SO IT'S YOUR FAULT HE'S LIKE THIS!" She then head butted Annie, making her stagger back until she fell on the floor. "Look, he did it for you, because you were a freaking idiot for going out there!" she continued, "He said himself! So shut up, you mediocre photographer!"

"Rachel, calm down…" Macho Man said, "A girl like you shouldn't really be this-"

"CAN IT!" She shouted, "I'M NOT IN THE MOOD! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" She stormed down the hallway, causing a few passerby patients and doctors to look at her. "Geez, she's almost as crazy as you Ryan…" Macho Man commented, but Ryan shook his head, saying, "Nah…I'm not that crazy when I'm pissed off."

A huge tremor made the three stagger on their feet, making them look to see Giga Mac barely dodge a large piece of concrete thrown at him. "Mac's really going ape out there…" Doc commented as he saw his apprentice run towards the monster and swing a hard left hook. "She did mention that the only side effect of this is uncontrollable anger. Maybe it's happening right now…"

"You think he'll come after us?"

The three men looked at Annie as she stood up again. "What'cha mean Annie?" Doc asked.

"Well, he's an uncontrollable monster right now, and I don't think he'll remember we're his friends…" she continued, "So, do you think he'll try and kill us?"

"I never thought of that…" The trainer pondered, "This could be trouble for us…"

/

To be continued...


	10. Short but sweet horrors

I made it to Missouri. I'm operating on satilite internet.

Aiya...I went down the horribe action plot route. Forgive me for this...

I only own Annie and Rachel; everyone else belongs to Nintendo.

/

"This is bad…this is really bad. This is bogus bad!"

Macho hobbled back and forth while Doc sat and watched. "I know this is bad Macho…" the trainer replied, "But, we just got to keep calm and think things through…you can't exactly think straight when your mind is going bonkers."

"I can't help it dude!" he replied, "That little pipsqueak you worked with is twice the size as me! He'll probably go after us next when he's done with that thing out there!"

"You never know…" Doc argued, "Mac might still be there, despite the huge body and mindless bashing he's doing right now!"

Macho just sighed and smoothed back his hair, replying, "I wouldn't hold my breath on that Doc. He's got all the reasons to hate us, and now that he's huge, he can practically kill us ten times if he wanted to."

"Let him come in; I'll beat him to mush!"

The two turned to see Aran walking down the hallway with Annie trailing behind him. "Hey guys." Doc greeted, "What's happening?"

"Well, we just heard they brought the guys in." the Irishman replied, "Rachel is acting crazier than a headless chicken; the security are scrambling to pry 'er away from the ER."

"It's crazy…" Annie commented, "After I saw her like that, and all those boxers…I hope everybody lives…"

"I doubt it…did ya see Joe!" Aran asked, "He looks worse than all than his fights combined!"

"Shut up!" Macho yelled out, "Both of you! I don't want to hear another word!"

Silence fell on the four, feeling the awkward silence fell on them from the outburst. Macho swallowed hard, continuing, "Sorry, I'm just a bit worked up. I knew those guys since my early days; to know they're probably gonna die…"

"Didn't know you were soft Macho…" Doc commented, "Kind of a hidden side for you…"

"The WVBA made me who I am today; the years spent in the arena, and the people inside. It's worth more than what I earned." The Californian replied, "Nobody will understand it unless they were there from the beginning…"

"Well, no use moping about whether they're gonna die or live." Doc said, "We just gotta hope for the best; even though it's all that we've been doing for the past few hours."

/

A horrible crash made the building shake, causing the lights to flicker on and off while people in the halls and rooms scream and scatter. A horrible screeching made the four turn to the front window, seeing just outside that Giga Mac was trying to squeeze the monster's head to a pulp. "He's gonna kill it!" Aran yelled out, "Holy crap! He's actually gonna kill it that way!"

"We can see that MR. Obvious!" Annie yelled out, "Keep your mouth shut!"

The watched on as the creature squirmed and push away from Giga Mac, but he held onto the monster's neck, despite each scratch and wound to his chest. More and more hospital staff began to stare at the scene, crossing fingers while staring on with sick fascination. The four could hear the comments whispered amongst them.

"Which one's the monster?"

"They should send that boy to the science labs…"

"One freak of nature killing another; how barbaric…"

"I heard that's a kid from the WVBA...You think they created some super steroid?"

"Something more monstrous than those WVBA boxers."

"Maybe we should start a petition to shut down the WBVA for good."

/

The skull caved in. The group watched in shock and horror as the monster's skull crumbled in Giga Mac's hands, blood and brain matter squirting through his fingers. As the body fell to the ground, the remains of the head slid through, falling with a silent splat. The winner of the struggle looked towards the crowd, then began to stumble towards the main lobby, causing the staff to step away into the halls, leaving the four to stand alone.

"He's comin' for us…" Aran muttered, "He's gonna squeeze our 'eads like eggs. We oughta run…"

"Hold on a minute Ryan…" Doc ordered, "HE doesn't look like he wanna hurt us."

"Let's hope you're right…" Macho muttered, "If he kills us, I'm gonna kick your ass in the afterlife."

The three men hushed themselves as Mac was a breath away from them, his face filled with a sensation of triumph.

"You did good Mac." Doc commented, making Mac stare at him, "The head crushing wasn't necessary, but this isn't a boxing match anymore. Come on, let's tell Rachel the good news." He placed a hand on Mac's arm, continuing, "Come on now; let's have her take a look at those scratches."

But he didn't move; the mutated teenager stared at Doc like a frightened animal. Anxious silence fell on them, waiting for the next move to be made.

/

The next move was made by horrible force.

The sounds of shattering glass made the five turn to see the main lobby destroyed by a thrashing tentacle. The all watched as the body of the monster dragged through, while its tentacles thrashed around. "No way!" Annie exclaimed, "Its head was squished like a pumpkin! That thing's cheating now!"

They saw as the monster's neck detached itself from the body, falling to the ground lifelessly. The monster's body shifted upwards and the arms began to shift backwards as the back began to stretch outwards. From the middle of the chest, something began to emerge from within, stretching out the skin until it broke. They watched as the new appendage began to move around until it glared at them, taken back by the small, narrow eyes and the wide mouth filled with sharp teeth. They watched on as the legs fused into one long appendage while the tentacles began to divide and transform into four arms, each tube throbbing hard as each bound to each other.

"This is not happening…this is not happening!" Macho denied, "This isn't real anymore!"

"I'm gonna puke now…" Aran mumbled, staggering backwards. "This is just too much…"

"We gotta run!" Doc ordered, "This isn't gonna work!"

"What about the other patients!" Annie asked, "IT's probably gonna kill them while we run!"

"Well, what do you think we do! We can't stand here!" Doc answered back, "And I don't think Mac here can take another fight!"

The five watched in horror as the creature roared out as it finished its second transformation, hoping for a miracle.

/

To be continued...


	11. Little Mac's Third and Final Round

It's been a rough time while I was gone. I'm really sorry for this chapter, and I'm really sorry for my long dissapearence. I'm at my wit's end, but this thing is nearly over.

I won nothing but Rachel and Annie. Punch out belongs to Nintendo,

/

"FIRE!"

A round of gunshots exploded behind the monster's back, making every person in the area fall to the ground, letting the five fighters to make a run for it. "Thank the Lord for the police…" Annie huffed, "The only sensible beings on this piece of rock that know how to use guns."

"They won't be there for much longer kid," Doc replied, "That thing'll kill them!" Macho yelled as he passed them, "Then let's not make their sacrifice in vain! Come on, we gotta get to Rachel!" The five continued to run down the hallways without another word, keeping their gases straight ahead with each upcoming turn and various obstacles as they rushed up to meet them.

"Aran, you said Rachel's at the ER, right?" Macho asked, having a bobbing nod in return. "Yeah, she should be!" The Irishman replied, "At least, that's what I heard! She could've been kicked out by the time we get there!" Doc countered, "Well, she couldn't have gotten far if she was kicked out of the ER waiting room! This hospital has like what, five, six floors?" "Six floors with a basement," Macho corrected, "This hospital has a total of 745 rooms total. I kinda asked around when I was here."

"Guys, Mac's starting to revert!"

The three men turned as Annie half carried, half dragged Mac as he began to return to normal, decreasing in size as his caveman-like features disappeared. "Hold on, I got the other half." Aran insisted as he slowed down to help the two, "Dragging a body isn't exactly helpful to anyone."

"Pick up the pace people!" Macho exclaimed, "That thing'll come at us any minute now!" With a collective nod, the four conscious people sped their pace up for the long walk.

/

Meanwhile, Rachel sat in the waiting room, waiting for the news to come and attack her. "Why did I choose this job?" She asked out loud, "I could've been a pediatrician, or an optometrist; I would've settled for a gynecologist job. But no…I had to be an athletic physician! I thought it would be safe…It had nice pay, good insurance plan; heck, it even had a vacation plan! I didn't think I would have to deal with a monster in any way!"

"Quit cryin', I'm trying to watch the news!" A patient yelled out, snapping Rachel out of her angered state. With a sigh, she stood from her chair and walked towards the vending machines, eyeing each snack and drink choice carefully. "Maybe I can kill myself with a heart attack…" she mumbled, "I heard people do it all the time eating these sausage snacks…"

"Rachel! Rachel!"

She turned from the machine to see Richard run towards her, his face bandaged up and his arm in a sling. "Richard…" she breathed, "Why are you here? You should be in our room or something…"

"You don't get a hospital room for a stupid broken arm, and a couple of scrapes!" the Referee stated, "I'm wondering why you're here? You gotta help Mac and them!"

"They can handle it themselves, I quit." The physician stated, "This job is too weird and too dangerous; I can't handle it any more. Besides, I don't want to work with morons that can't accept the fact that I sacrifice for their little asses. That little brat that works with Mac is seriously a complete moron."

"Well, can you at least help a little while longer?" Richard asked, "I think that thing mutated; everyone at the front desk saw the thing morph!" But he was ignored as Rachel proceeded to slip coins into the vending machine and punched in a number. "So what?" She stated, "That means that we're all doomed, no matter what. By the way, how did you get here?"

"That's not the point!" He exclaimed, grabbing the woman by her shoulders, "I know that you and I have been through a hellish night! But damn it; I won't say it's over until all of us die! Now shape up, we got a job to do!"

"HEY GUYS! OPEN THE ER UP!"

The two turned to see the four racing towards them, with Little Mac in their arms. "Guys, I'm glad you're here!" Richard exclaimed, "Slap some sense into Rachel; I'll get Little Mac into the ER." Macho Man skidded to a halt while Doc jogged up to them and Annie and Aran nearly tripping over their own feet. "Jeez…you'd think the little runt would be lighter unconscious!" The Irishman puffed, "It didn't help that we had to hurdle over gurneys…"

"It's called 'Deadweight', Aran…" Annie wheezed, "And we could've gone around the gurneys!" But the Irishman argued, "It takes too long! I don't know about you, but I don't wanna face that thing again!" Richard butted in, saying, "I'll take him, thank you." As he removed the tired teen out of their arms, Rachel only said, "Let's just put him to sleep now; he's gone through hell."

"I'm getting to that Rachel, no need to state the obvious." The Referee snapped back, "What a night. This kid must be suffering like there's no tomorrow."

"So now what?" Doc asked, "Who's gonna fight that thing? I'll be willing to, when I get a pair of boxing gloves…" Macho cracked his neck, adding, "Yeah, I'll kick that thing to yesterday; dang thing nearly punched out my eye!"

"None of you are gonna do jack shit." Rachel simply stated, while fumbling with a small bag of chips, "That thing'll kill you in three minutes flat. I might as well try and do something. It ain't a video game, and I ain't gonna find a miracle weapon in this hospital, but I might as well kill myself." The Californian scowled, asking, "What's gotten into ya Rachel? You're starting to act hopeless."

"That's the point, Macho. I'm losing hope; we can't beat that damn thing." The physician answered, "That bastard won; it killed everybody faster than we can eat a pocket pudding cup. I might as well get killed by it, or get fat on chips."

Macho Man smacked the bag out of her hands, then slapped her across the face, yelling, "GET A GRIP WOMAN! Where's that back-talking medic chick that I used to flirt with? Don't tell me that monster decided to kill her while I was in the hospital! You never gave up like this! Damn it! Where is that woman! Where is Rachel! Where's the Rachel I wanted to take to diner one day?"

A deep rumble made the people in the waiting room tremble, making the five look at each other. "It's almost here." Doc muttered, "Time to go to work. Let me show you boys what it means to be a boxing legend!"

/

"Mac, hey Mac! Get up!"

Mac woke up to see that he was in a lit boxing ring, all alone save for the voice that woke him up. "Get up," the voice commanded, "Get up so I can fight ya again."

"Where am I?" he asked, "Who are you? Where's Doc and Annie!" But a deep chuckle made him look towards the turnbuckle opposite to him, seeing the all too familiar silhouette of Mr. Sandman. "Sandman!" he exclaimed, "But, they said you were dead! "

"I am, ya dummy." The deceased boxer confirmed, "But, I'm not done on this Earth yet. I ain't crossing over until I see that thing fall down dead. And since you're the only one that beat me, you gotta do it." Mac furrowed his brow, replying, "I'm unconscious, and I'm talking to a dead guy; I can't do a damn thing."

"How about this deal then; if you don't get up and beat the crap out of it, Doc, Annie, and all your friends of the WVBA are gonna die, then you die." Mr. Sandman said, "'Cause basically, you're giving up, and allowing that to happen."

"I'm not giving up!" The teenager yelled out, "I can't do a damn thing!" But was taken back when he felt a horrible, hard left hook knock him down. He looked up to Mr. Sandman, seeing his huge frame loom over him. "Can't do a damn thing?" He asked, "I'm freaking dead, and look at that; I knock you flat on your ass. Now tell me that you can't do a damn thing. You forgot what Don made you realize, and what Doc taught you all those months ago. Shit, you must be the worst boxer in history to say such things."

"SHUT UP!" Mac yelled as he stood up and threw a right hook, only to have it go through his chest. "Damn it, I don't know what to do!" he yelled out, "I couldn't throw a star punch at that thing! I didn't even feel it in me anymore…"

"It isn't that you couldn't feel the star punch in ya." The deceased boxer began, "It's that you didn't even acknowledge that you had the spirit yet in order to create a star punch. Yeah, I knocked the fight outta ya the last time we fought. But dang, I didn't know you would lose it for this long; sheesh, maybe it's time we do something no other boxer has ever done."

"What?"

"Let's fight together."

/

Mac sprang from his gurney, finding himself fighting against a medical staff as they tried to stab him with syringes. "Damn it, let me go! I'm not done!" HE yelled, "I need to fight that thing before everyone dies!" "Sir, calm down!" a doctor assured, "You can't do anything!" But the boy still protested, still struggling and knocking needles out of careful hands.

"Let the boy go; he's got a match to attend." Richard said as he rushed to the boys side, tearing away nurses and doctors with his good arm. "Break it up people!" He yelled, "Mac, get going! I'll hold them off!"

Without a second thought, Mac sprang from the gurney and ran out of the ER, yelling over his shoulder, "Thanks Richard!"

He dashed through the swinging doors, passing by Rachel and Macho man as they argued back and forth in the waiting room. HE passed the many doors that led to patient's rooms and examination rooms, feeling his tired heart pound like a drum. "I'm coming guys!" he yelled out, "Don't die on me!"

He turned a corner and saw a fight going on between Doc Louis and the monster, with Aran and Annie nowhere to be seen. "DOC!" he screamed out, "DOC! I'M HERE! GET AWAY!" But he stopped short as the monster batted away his trainer like a doll, sending the trainer skidding across the floor. "Louis!" Mac yelled as he ran to his side, "Are you ok?"

He saw the scrapes and deep cuts on his trainer's face, as well as horrible gashes on his chest and hands. He shook his trainer, but no response other that breathing came from the chocolate-loving trainer. "Doc Louis, it's me…Little Mac!" he begged, "Please, just open your eyes! Say something!"

"I know I tell ya to fight any opponent…" The trainer wheezed, "But I'm telling ya, that damn thing is the equivalent to Hell. Tossed Annie and Aran like rag dolls…right out the window. Beat me up until I'm sneezing blood. You're gonna die."

"Doc…this isn't you…this isn't you…" he whimpered, "Damn it, that thing….that damn monster!"

He turned and ran towards the creature as it thrashed around the hallway, feeling his hands burn and throb with his ultimate power. "Here it comes!" Mac screamed, "THREE STAR PUNCH!"

With a mighty right jab, Mac unleashed the power of a three star punch right in the middle of the monster's face, unleashing a rush of blood straight out of its body. Mac retracted his left fist, and then unleashed another star punch, sending more blood gushing from the monster's body. "I don't care how impossible it is!" He screamed, "I WILL UNLEASH IT ALL!"

He screamed a final war cry as he threw a right left jab combination until he felt his hands hit nothing but jelly. HE looked down to see the monster's face reduced to an unidentifiable pile of bloody mesh, looking at each body part for any movement. With a final sigh, Little Mac collapsed onto the mutated and mutilated corpse, feeling satisfied at the victory of his toughest match.

/

To be concluded...


	12. The Taste of Victory

I'm terribly sorry for the long delay; I had a computer virus take me out for a long time, and a horrible writer's block. But, I'm back on track, and I am finishing this. I do not know if I want to add an epilogue after this; it seems unnecessary and necessary at the same time. Anyway, hope you anjoy this.

I own nothing but Rachel, Anderson, and Annie. Everything else belongs to Nintendo.

/

Mac woke up in a boxing ring, with only a single spotlight illuminating his collapsed form. He tried to stand up, but sharp pains in his legs caused him to collapse again to the mat, leaving him to struggle into a sitting position.

"Glad you could come." A deep voice echoed, "I was hoping that you would come here." From the shadows, Mr. Sandman stepped into the spotlight, dressed in his boxing attire. "I wanted to have one final match with you." He uttered as he held a gloved hand to him, "But, it looks like you gone through three rounds with a rhino."

"No…no, I can fight." Mac assured as he tried to stand up again, "I'll fight you one last time." But the older man chuckled and shook his head, replying, "You can't fight me; I'm dead, but you aint. Get back to the living little man." With that, Mr. Sandman picked up the teenager, and then threw him into the darkness.

"Mac, try and fight like you did before!" The deceased boxer yelled out, "You better not fail me!"

/

Mac woke up with a yelp, soon recognizing the surroundings of a hospital room. He looked around to see Rachel writing notes in an arm chair, as well as a vase with daffodils and tiger lilies. "Mac, you're up, good." She said, "I was worried for a while there…the doctors said you would sleep for three days."

"Where are Doc and Annie?" he asked, "And what about the other boxers? Are they ok?" The nurse nodded with a soft smile, answering, "Doc and Annie are alright; Doc had a few broken ribs, and Annie had a fractured skull, but they are stable. The boxers are alright; they're all stable and alive. I can't believe it myself." Sighing in relief, Mac fell into the hospital bed again, replying, "I'm glad everybody's alright. Just wish that the WVBA's reputation was the same."

"I think no one needs to worry about that."

The two turned their attention to a sharp dressed man with white hair tied into a pony tail, a pair of sharp, but kind eyes, and a soft smile on his lips. "Mr. Anderson!" Rachel exclaimed, "Sir! What are you doing here?" Mr. Anderson smiled and answered, "Well, I wanted to wish everyone good health after the disaster last night. I am glad that everyone is alive, although I am sorrowful of Mr. Sandman. I wish he was here to celebrate life with us."

"Mr. Anderson, I am sorry about that…" Rachel apologized, "I wish I had stopped him…" But the new arrival put a finger to her lips and said, "He died defending the arena. In other words, he died a hero. That's a great way to die."

"Um…excuse me sir, Mr. Anderson," Mac interrupted, "But, are you the guy who runs the WVBA?" Mr. Anderson turned to him, and walked up to his bed, replying, "I am the president of the WVBA. My family has run the WVBA for as long as boxing existed as a sport. You must be Little Mac; my, you're a brave boy. I was ecstatic from hearing your boxing career the first time you and your trainer stepped through the doors."

"Thank you, sir." Mac replied, "But what about the WVBA?" The president snapped his fingers, saying, "Ah yes, I was getting to the WVBA's reputation. It's safe to say that the blame will be placed on a pharmaceutical company instead of us…" He stopped as he sighed, then continued, "I denied their agreement for them to use one of the boxers for advertisement purposes. I guess they got sore and created a monster to destroy everything and everyone related to the WVBA. But, that company got stupid and forgot the monster they sent to us was a mascot for one of their popular medications."

"Are you kidding me?" Rachel asked, "It was a pharmaceutical company?" Mr. Anderson nodded, answering, "Yes, it was. I guess it was my fault for not collaborating with them. Ah well; their revenge plot is their undoing, and I will get enough money to fix the arena, and pay for all the medical expenses, as well as the funeral costs and the life insurance for Mr. Sandman's family." Mac's jaw dropped while Rachel's eyes bugged out of their sockets.

"What?" The president asked, "Was it something I said?" Rachel answered, "No, I'm just surprised…you did this in one night!" Mac added in, "Yeah, it seems kind of unrealistic that you set up this sort of thing in one night." Anderson smiled and said, "Well, let's just say that I have friends in high and low places, as well as everywhere in between. Justice is swift spirit that will punish all who love revenge colored with blood." He then chuckled light heartedly while Mac and Rachel felt a cold chill travel up and down their spines.

"Well, I best make my way to the other boxers; I need to tell them the news and plans." Anderson said as he approached the doorframe, "I suggest the two of you get some rest until your bodies get to a better level of health." With a short wave and a smile, he left the two shivering in fear. "Now I can see why that guy scares you…" Mac uttered to Rachel, "I feel like I should lick his boots…" She replied, "He is a fearful man…with too much power for a boxing organization president."

"Rachel, could you go out and check on Louis and Annie?" Mac asked, "I want to see if they're awake." The nurse nodded, then replied, "I just do that; I need more coffee anyway. Want anything while I'm out?" The young man shook his head, allowing the nurse to leave the room. Mac turned to look at the window, muttering to himself, "I will do my best to fight hard and long, Mr. Sandman."


End file.
